


Avery's Horde

by SuperPsychoNutcase



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Adventure, Booby Traps, Defiling Graves, F/M, Family Trip, Learning lessons along the way, Lots and Lots of Gold, Treasure Hunt, Whiny Little Rich Boys, With Friends, and death eaters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 10:00:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21073040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperPsychoNutcase/pseuds/SuperPsychoNutcase
Summary: Hermione is happy to hear that her older cousin, Sam, isn't as dead as Nate said. However, Sam has gotten himself in a bit of a bind and of course Hermione will help her treasure hunting brothers find the largest stash of pirate wealth in History. Voldemort and his Death Eaters hear about this treasure horde and they're not about to let lowly muggles claim a ancient wizard's wealth.Now Hermione must deal with a group of murderous assholes that will surely kill her and her family the moment they find Avery's treasure and a whiny little heir that dragged her cousins into the search ten years ago. Oh, and his hired guns that have a hate on for Nathan Drake.Here's to a fun summer vacation.





	Avery's Horde

**Author's Note:**

> I love video games. Can't play them for shit, but the graphics amaze me.

Severus Snape would have been sweating bullets if he hadn’t learned the art of occlumency years ago. The school term was coming to a close and Draco had yet to kill Dumbledore. Due to an unbreakable vow he was forced to take or be questioned by the insane Bellatrix Lestrange, Severus would die if the Malfoy heir failed in his task. He had a feeling that the self proclaimed Dark Lord had a contingency plan, but he knew he was treading on thin ice as it was. Severus had dug through a series of Dark books and thought he had found a potion that would cure the Headmaster of Hogwarts. The Potion Master just needed time. He needed time to test it, perfect it, so that Albus could live. The problem was that his time was running out. He needed something… anything to raise Voldemort’s spirits. He needed to present something so intriguing, so irresistible that it would take his attention off of Hogwarts and off of his godson. He prayed to whatever Gods were listening to give him a scheme, a rebellion, a long-lost sodding child!...to make Tom Riddle abandon his siege on his school.

How he wished he could take that prayer back. 

Merely an hour ago, Severus had been patrolling the halls in his search for hormonal and horny teenagers. The stress of Draco’s task, the unbreakable vow, and his double life made him furious with the world and the unfairness of it all. He had been damning old Tommy for not staying dead and Albus for making his life worse with his stupid command to kill him to save Draco’s soul. Severus had been looking for some unwitting students to use as a verbal punching bag when he came across none other than the know-it-all herself. The Princess of Gryffindor, the Brightest Witch of the Age, and known to very few: a fourth generation dancer. It was written in her student files and something she took great pride in even if she didn’t share it with her classmates. Her great-grandmother was a tap dancer, her grandmother did ballet, her mother river danced throughout college, and Hermione was a award-winning belly dancer.

It was common for muggleborns to have histories of sports, music, and other hobbies before attending Hogwarts, but rare were the ones that had planned to dedicate their lives to their art. Severus sadly recalled one Muggleborn girl back when he first started teaching who was a violin prodigy. The girl, Serenity, was a sweet Hufflepuff that played for her friends. She would practice everyday in the courtyard and everyone would stop and listen, entranced by the emotions she evoked with four strings and a lock horsehair strung tight. The girl had been a gentle soul with many friends and the few bad words spoken of her were the vile spewing of the jealous attention whores. Academically, she did alright, but music was her passion. Unfortunately, she had the misfortune of attracting Rabastan Lestrange. Though the man treated her well and may have even loved her, the Death Eaters learned of Serenity and demanded he bring her to a revel. He did as he was commanded and… after watching her tortured like that, he has never been the same.

Hermione Granger was walking with two older men. According to the memo Dumbledore had sent out earlier in the evening, both men were cousins of Hermione… one thought to be dead for fifteen years… visiting her from the colonies. Since the girl was a Prefect and was the top choice for Head Girl for next term, Albus requested that all teachers leave her be to reunite with her family. It’s not everyday someone comes back from the dead. ‘Let the girl have this spot of light in these dark times.’ She has more than earned it. Severus had been furious, but backed down. He knew arguing with Albus Dumbledore was as effective as herding cats. He would do as the Headmaster wished.

Professor Snape couldn’t punish Hermione for being out of bed on a Saturday night. However, that did not mean Severus couldn’t take her down a few pegs in front of her muggle cousins. 

Severus breezed silently down the corridor, intent on startling his three victims and gaining the upper hand right off the bat. As he grew close enough to hear their conversation, he stopped and magically vaulted himself onto the exposed beams near the ceiling. The topic was just so intriguing he just had to learn more. He remained in the rafters for thirty minutes, over half of that time spent going over what he had heard when his Dark Mark began to burn hot with his dark master’s temper. He had rushed back to his rooms to gather his robe and mask, met his godson outside the Slytherin door, and whisked him outside to apparate to Malfoy Manor. Where all the Death Eaters waited.  
Voldemort was not happy with Dumbledore’s continued survival. He crucioed Draco for his lack of progress and then he crucioed his father for producing, in his words, a pathetic waste of pure blood. And then Tom Riddle turned to Severus, kneeling on the ground, and asked him for any news worth sharing. If Bellatrix’s dark, demented grin was anything to go by, Severus was going to be punished tonight. He really didn’t want to suffer the Dark Lord’s punishment.

And that’s how Severus found himself biting back his nerve wracking fear before making a decision he knew would change everything. Hermione Granger didn’t deserve the full attention of Voldemort and his loyal Death Eaters. 

With a thousand mental apologies to the best student he ever had, Severus Snape reported what he had heard that night.

“Potter’s mudblood friends was visited by her muggle cousins tonight.”

The air in the room became charged with rage. “WHAT???”

Severus didn't move. He was too good to give away his thoughts with a flinch. “Miss Granger was visited by two cousins, one who had been assumed dead for fifteen years. Dumbledore allowed the visit because he thought she would like to see him.”

Voldemort roared in righteous fury, knocking over his ornate throne as he stood up to pace. “That muggle-loving scum! How dare he defile Hogwarts by allowing dirty muggles set foot on the grounds! Draco, this wouldn't have happened if you had killed him long ago!”

“My Lord,” Severus was tempting fate by speaking out while the snake-like man was in such a mood, but hopefully he could turn his loathing into interest. “both men said something about a treasure… they want Granger’s help to find it.”

Voldemort slowly turned his gaze to the pale man. The infuriated atmosphere receded and all could breathe again. Now the Death Eaters were curious or dubious of the supposed claims two muggles had made. Severus didn’t dare so much as twitch while the Dark Wizard stared him down in case he was searching for deceit, some reason to continue with his plans for exacting torture upon Snape. After a few agonizing seconds, Voldemort commanded his potioneer to rise and step forth. 

Snape knew what was coming and prepared his mind for intrusion. He straightened to his full height of six foot three and stalked over to the dais. His prediction was proved true when Voldemort looked him straight in his onyx eyes and snapped two words. “Show me.”

Tom Riddle didn’t need to say the spell to tear into people’s minds. As a talented Legilimens, he could have invaded anyone’s mind from across the room so long as they made eye contact. However, being close to the recipient of the spell made it easier on the caster. Severus displayed the memories of the night in the forefront of his mind for Voldemort to see. After playing through what I had heard Voldemort pulled out of his head and stepped away. His clawed fingers twitched, a tick of his that signalled he was in deep thought. Finally, the Dark Lord lifted his hand. “Pettigrew, go fetch the projection pensieve. Severus, I want you to show your brothers the memory of tonight and everything you know about the mudblood, Hermione Granger.”

The rat Animagus returned quickly with the pensieve in tow. The rune engraved stone bowl was different from Dumbledore’s as it had four pyrite prongs holding up a clear quartz lens thirty centimeters over the center of the bowl. Due to the additions, this version of a pensieve was much pricier.

The projection pensieve was a relatively new invention, made within the last ten years here in England. The added iolite stones channeled the memory up and through the perfect quartz, displaying the memory to all in the room, not just to those who stuck their face into the bowl. It was made for aurors to go over crime scenes with those who weren’t there and families reliving old memories, or so the packaging proclaimed. A pureblood not of the Sacred Twenty-Eight patented it and was rolling in the royalties he was still collecting. 

Yet I knew for a fact that it was not his invention.

The true genius behind the improved pensieve was an old student of his. A Ravenclaw muggleborn with insatiable curiosity, he had been able to purchase a pensieve in his seventh year. He had been fascinated by it and proposed the idea that it could be improved. From a peek at his mind, Snape knew he got the inspiration from a muggle contraption that could display an image onto a large, flat surface: a projector. The Ravenclaw met a businessman named Solomon Falworth, a pureblood who never married, and agreed to fund the boy’s project. 

Long story short; Falworth received all the credit and poor Ezekiel Ashton was rotting in his family plot… if the backstabbing, greedy bastard even bothered to send the boy’s body to his parents. 

It was not the first time a muggleborn’s work had been stolen.

Severus drew his wand and pressed it against his temple, focusing the evening’s memory to the front of my mind and carefully pulled it out. With a gentle wave of his wand, the bright strand fell into the clear water. He was damning himself for doing this. Until now, the Dark Lord and his followers had paid no mind to the smarter third of the Golden Trio aside from acknowledging that she was a muggleborn and therefore must die. From a tactical standpoint, this was an incredibly stupid move. She is the reason Harry Potter hasn’t bitten it and joined the choir invisible since first year. Though The Boy Who Lived To Be A Pain In The Arse didn’t place nearly as much stock in her word as he did the absolute dumbest of the Weasleys, she is a force not to be reckoned with and her ire avoided. Marietta Edgecombe found out the hard way that Hermione Granger was not a pushover. 

With another wave of hid cherry wood dragon heartstring wand, the image of Hermione and her two older cousins appeared above the pensieve. With all three standing together like this, one would have a hard time finding familial resemblance them. Both men were tall, dark haired with deep set grey eyes and square jawed while Hermione was a petite woman with voluptuous curves that Snape could see a few Death Eaters eyeing with disturbing hunger. The men were all muscle and Hermione looked like she did the bare minimum to maintain her figure. They were dark warriors where she was a honey colored princess. And yet they had the same cheekbones, the same ears, the same long fingers… hers more feminine in their delicacy than their calloused and scarred appendages. 

Severus felt the stirrings of regret within his darkened soul as the memory played out before these half mad criminals. 

“How do you boys know that the treasure isn’t long gone by now, taken by some other treasure hunters long ago and divvied up between them?” The Gryffindor placed her hands on her rounded hips and took her argumentative stance. 

The short haired, younger one shrugged. “It is a possibility, but I highly doubt it because I found the first real clue at that old prison. If it was still there, then that means there’s still a chance we’ll be the first ones to find the legendary treasure of the Pirate Lord, Henry Avery!”

The other brother chipped in, his jaw length hair swaying in the castle’s cool drafts. “And we spotted the symbol of a two headed phoenix and we knew this had something to do with magic! So we thought ‘who better to ask for help than our beautiful and oh-so-brilliant witchey cousin?’.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “I see. Ten years I believed you dead and the first visit you ever pay me is because you’re both after some wizard pirate’s buried treasure. I love you too, Sam.”

“Oh c’mon, little cousin! You know I didn’t mean it like that.” Sam shot a halfhearted glare at his chuckling brother. He turned back to Hermione with a confident grin. “What better way to spend quality time with family than by travelling the world hunting for a long lost fortune?”

One of her slender eyebrows shot up. “Sitting in front of a roaring fire and talking about our lives over fifty year old scotch?”

Sam paused, his gaze pointed up at the ceiling at the thought. “True, but that’s not nearly as profitable.”

The other brother coughed to cover his laugh. “Honestly, Hermione, we would love your help on this. What can you tell us about Henry Avery?”

She sighed and stepped away and ran her fingers through her wild curls. “It’s true there was a wizard named Draco Henry Avery in the early 1600’s. Unlike his parents before him, he attended Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts for reasons unknown. While he was there, he fell in love with the school’s ship. He came home, took some of his inheritance, and set out on the sea. He claimed he wanted to explore the world before he settled down and was promptly disowned for not wanting to take a wife to churn out babies.  
Though it was rumored he was spotted in several magical communities throughout the world, one day he just up and disappeared. No one knew where he went and his family certainly never cared. Everyone believed him to be dead. 

“That’s where the story of Draco Henry Avery ends in magical history, but we know that around the same time he vanished, a pirate lord by practically the same name began terrorizing the seas. Legend has it that he was able to convince at least twelve other pirate lords to help create a town made by pirates, for pirates. After building their city and naming it Libertalia, they used it as a base to horde all their collective treasure. Or so the legend says.

“According to magical history, Draco Avery had a silver tongue and could charm his way out of anything. Though charismatic, his family stated that he had a dragon’s greed of gold. He was stingy with his fortune and was always looking for ways to add to his vaults.” Hermione eyed her cousins with wary interest. “You’re lucky purebloods love to brag about their ancestors.”

The brothers shared a look of such excitement even Hermione couldn’t help but smile as well. “So… is that enough to convince you to come with us?”

The Gryffindor exhaled through her dainty nose. “I want proof first. Nathan, you said you found an old cross down at the Panama jail.”

Both men stiffened, suddenly taking an interest in the castle walls. “... Yeah, I did.”

Hermione held out her hand. “Let me see it then.”

“Uh…” Nathan shot his brother a panicked glance. Not finding any help there, his gaze returned to the sceptic woman. “I...um… don’t have it.”

Her finely shaped brow rose again and her hand dropped back to her hip. “What do you mean you don’t have it?”

Sam lifted both arms, palms out, as if approaching a cornered animal. “We don’t have it on us, but we know where it is! The one we found in Panama has a twin and it’s supposed to contain the next clue. All we need to do is retrieve it and you can examine it to your heart’s content.”

The girl’s eyes flicked between the two. “Alright. Where is it?”

Sam pulled out a slip of paper. It was wrinkled and creased, appearing to have been handled often. He gave it to her to inspect. “At this moment, it is collecting dust in the Rossi estate in Italy. A little over a month from now, it’s going to go on auction.”

Hermione’s eyes found the crucifix in question. She also noted the starting price. “£200,000 for a decorative cross? I may come from old money, but there’s no way in hell I can justify spending that kind of cash on a crucifix. We’re not even religious.”

Nate coughed into his fist and nudged his older brother. Sam hesitantly corrected her assumption. “We… weren’t planning on… buying it.”

“You two are going to steal it?” They didn’t deny the accusation. “You boneheads! The Rossi family runs the mafia, or at least assists. That villa will be crawling with thugs and criminals! If you’re caught…”

“We won’t get caught.” Sam stopped her ranting by patting her shoulder. He pulled his hand back when her eyes narrowed on the offending limb. 

Nathan intervened before she went off on him. “Look, we have a plan and it just so happens to involve you… if you want in.”

Hermione looked away, gazing out into the still night. The light of the half full moon made her creamy skin glow. Sam took her right hand in his and gave her a devilish grin. “C’mon, you know you want this. Traveling the world, solving ancient puzzles, buried treasure. There is nothing more you want in the world than to join your favorite cousins on the adventure of a lifetime!”

She was having none of it, though. “But next term is my final year. I’m all but declared Head Girl. Who knows how long this hunt will last!”

Sam, never one who cared for school, didn’t see the problem. “We’ll be done long before you have to return to school. And if we’re not, we’ll be filthy rich anyway!”

Nathan shook his, grinning despite his brothers poor attempt to make the upstanding swot discard her morals. “It’s estimated that Avery’s Horde has a value of over £280 billion. That’s a lot of money.”

Sam jumped in again. “With all that money, you wouldn’t need school! You could live out the rest of your days reading books and you’d want for nothing! Your children’s children could live luxuriously off that money! You could buy the UK and still have a fortune left over!”

“Maybe so.” The know-it-all giggled at his antics. She grew quiet, thinking it over. “Henry Avery wasn’t just a pirate who stole from muggles. He stole from wizards, too. With the addition of at least two other magical pirate lords that followed him…”

Both brothers brightened at her self-muttering. “What are you saying, Mia?”

The woman beamed up at her family, her honey gold orbs sparkling. “Muggle history only accounts for the muggle fortune that Avery accumulated, but historians are clueless about the magical communities he plundered.”

Sam and Nathan grasped each other’s shoulders as if grounding themselves. “So how much more do you think he locked away?”

Granger shot them a wicked grin. “Double than what we thought. And that's only counting actual money. I can only imagine the value of the objects they've pilfered like jewelry and magical artifacts.”

Her cousins smiles stretched from ear-to-ear. “Does that mean you're in?”

“I don't know. Avery was a greedy man. It's highly possible that he placed curses along the way to deter muggles and other treasure hunters.” Hermione rubbed her arms at the thought of facing deadly traps set by a crazy wizard.

Sam doing an arm over her shoulders, taking back the paper that he had given her and slipping back until his jacket. “Which is why you should come with us. Me and Nate are just two, poor, unwary muggles that have no clue the kind of horrors that wizards have left behind. We need a terrifyingly smart witch to watch our backs and get us out of magical mishaps.”

Nathan took to her other side, hooking his right arm around her waist. “What witch can we trust to help us track down the largest horde of treasure in history and not kill us to take it all for herself?”

“That and she's the only witch on the family.” Sam nodded to his brother. 

Their cousin sighed in faux irritation. A tiny smile betrayed her true feelings. “Alright. I'm in.”

Both men clapped and bayed in excitement. Sam stuck out his hand, palm down, with a wide grin. “All for one.”

Nathan put his hand on top of his brothers. “One for all.”

“What are we, the three musketeers?” She followed suit despite her jest. 

Sam pulled back and their hands returned to their sides. “Why, you wanna be? I can always get you a sword.”

Hermione rolled her eyes as the new laughed. She summoned a scrap of parchment and an inked quill and penned a message in her elegant scrap. She banished her quill and handed the scrap to Nathan. “Since I don’t want to waste time hunting you both down after school, you both can stay at Blood Moon Manor. It’s a villa in Italy that was gifted to me by my grandpere. It was supposed to be a present for me when I got married, but he handed me the deed early after his cancer was confirmed. He joined grandmere not long after that. I’ve been there only once, but it should be stocked well enough. Don’t be afraid to use money from my bedroom safe to buy some gear. I’ll join you both June 19th after school has ended. Until then, I’ll read up on curse breaking and collect a few things of mine that might help us.”

Nathan took the slip of parchment and stole a glance at his wrist watch. “Man, it’s pretty late. McGonagall is probably waiting for us by the front door.”

“I’ll take you there. Wouldn’t want you two getting lost in here.” Hermione latched on to their arms and began dragging them to the exit. 

The image of the trio fell away and the arguing started.

“This is ridiculous!” Jebediah Jugson, always one to talk without thinking first, sneered in derision. “You honestly expect us to believe that two worthless muggles found proof of some mythical treasure?”

Augustus Rookwood sat in his chair, relaxed and haughty. “Even if there is some fortune squirreled away somewhere, those filthy muggles couldn't find it if they searched for a thousand years.”

Voldemort sent a crucio at both men, one after the other, in displeasure. “Did I give you permission to speak?”

The room was silent once more. The Dark Lord pinned Snape with his crimson gaze. “Severus, do you think those muggles were telling the truth?”

He didn't dare give in to the urge to swallow in fear. Any sign of hesitance would be punished. “If it were any other muggle, I'd say they escaped from the looney bin, but I believe in this one.”

“Why?” All in the room turned in shock to the LeStrange brothers standing at the back of the room. Rodolphus is a man of few words. It wasn't always that way. He used to be the mature version of his little brother, Rabastian: playful, happy… and then he married Bellatrix. He discovered that she was infertile a day after being forced to marry her and his father was enraged. Cygnus Black had withheld that little tidbit of information because he knew no pureblood worth their salt would ever willingly marry a pureblooded woman that couldn't give him heirs. Unable to divorce her, Rodolphus drew into himself. Bella, of course, made no complaints. She was free to fuck whomever she pleased without fear of being thrown out on her ass due to their marriage contract. He couldn't kill her himself, nor could his brother, and Severus knew he was aching for the day that someone got the best of Bella and made him a widower. “Why this muggle? What makes him so special that you would take his word seriously?”

The Potion Master dropped what little knowledge he had and prayed to the Gods it would suffice. “Because that is Nathan Drake; an infamous treasure hunter.”

“Then why does he dress in those cheap rags.” Lucius Malfoy, one of the richest men among the purebloods, wore a sneer of disgust. 

Severus’ black eyes glimmered in slight amusement. “Because he somehow manages to lose the treasure he finds, usually by some sort of fiery explosion.”

Lucius, his wife, and his son pulled back in horror at the thought of the mindless destruction of money. Bloody rich people. 

“So…” Draco spoke hesitantly. “the treasure is real?”

Cadmus Avery Jr. shot to his feet, his trollish face flushed in anger. “If it is real, then that mudblood has no right touchin’ it! It was my ancestor that buried it and I…!”

“Shut up, Avery. Draco Henry Avery disowned all those years ago and thus his fortune is his own.” Voldemort cast the cruciatus on the man until he was a shivering mass on the floor.  
Though Severus was not a pureblood, a fact that many of the Death Eaters hang over him with much enthusiasm, he knew the unspoken rules of family etiquette. If a pureblooded couple birthed more than one child, the firstborn was always deemed the heir of the family. This meant that they would assume control over the family’s businesses, contracts, and vaults upon their parent’s death. However, if the heir is disowned, or renounced his claim, the title of heir falls on the next child. The fallen heir then had to enter the world without any of the connections their birth family has and make their own way in life. Some, like Andromeda Black, do alright for themselves and the rest usually come crawling back to their families or end it all. It seemed that Henry Avery had embraced his pirate lifestyle and did very well for himself if Hermione’s cousins were to be believed.  
Voldemort tapped his talons on the Malfoy’s table, making all in the room shiver. “Severus, tell me more about Potter’s mudblood. I want to know more about the girl: her strengths, her weaknesses, why those muggles would go to her for help.”  
Draco’s head, which had been tilted down to stare at the floor, jerked up in indignation. “My lord, I’ve given you plenty of information on that mudblood!”  
“Really? I don’t recall. Usually I just tune you out when you start whining.” The snake man shot the torture curse at the child. “Lucius, do keep that child of yours quiet. Honestly! He acts no better than a mudblood heathen.”  
Narcissa grasped her son’s arm as he trembled from the aftershocks of Voldemort’s apathetic attack. Her husband placed a gentle hand on his son’s back, his other hand clenched tight under the table in suppressed rage.  
“Severus.” Voldemort snapped impatiently.  
The Potion Master wished for the thousandth time that he had never met Voldemort before putting the wand tip to his temple.


End file.
